Each summer, while I was in college, I worked as a camp counselor at a sprawling 200 acre camp deep in the woods on a private lake. For ten weeks each year , the woods were full of inner city kids bussed in by well-meaning people who thought that it would make kids turn out better to spend time in the wild. From what I saw of the kids, most were already turning out pretty ok, but if it made some rich old guy feel like a hero for given kids a nice vacation, who was I to stand in their way? Besides, the pay was good, and there was also Shanni.
Shanni was hired in as a counselor my second summer there, and it was lust at first sight, plain and simple. She was a petite little thing, only coming up to my chin, but what she packed in her small package was dynamite! Her legs were tanned and toned, her butt was firm enough to bounce quarters off, and her upper body was perfection in action. Top it all off with pixie cut blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, ad she was dangerous for me to be around.
And of course, she had to pick the seat next to me at orientation. We all sat in a ring under a canopy of trees outside the main lodge while Brother Ken, looking uncomfortable in his jeans and collar shirt filled us in on the rules and regulations of camp. Since it was a "church run" camp, there would be NO "hanky panky" allowed. Shanni leaned over to me and whispered "Are you into hanky, or do you prefer panky?" When I turned to glare at her, I noticed her dancing eyes above cheeks dusted with freckles. Inwardly I groaned, "Oh sure. Of COURSE she has freckles." (There are a lot of weaknesses I will admit to, but a girl with freckles has a head start in getting my attention.)
Somehow I knew it was going to be a long summer. I had no idea how right I would be.
During the first week of orientation, I was in a special form of hell reserved exclusively for those with way too many hormones and nothing to do with them. First it was lifeguard testing, where I had to endure watching Shanni in her sexy one-piece giving mouth to mouth to a dummy: when she caught me staring, she winked and slipped the dummy the tongue. I hated that dummy.
Next up, during softball, she kept pushing me off base, using her hips and butt, making sure to grind against me every time she got on base. Finally, when I grabbed at her and physically held her away from me, she whispered "Wouldn't you like to get in some bating practice with that thing?" while quickly running a hand across the front of my shorts where nobody else could see.
Finally, I decided that the only way to deal with such a flirt was to ignore her completely, a tactic that was a form of hell in and of itself, as it seemed to make Shanni insane, and drove her to even more outrageous forms of flirting. She took to unbuttoning her shirts another button, and making sure to bend over to pick things up whenever I was around, and all the other tricks girls seem to just know will drive a guy wild. Each night I went to sleep frustrated, and slept badly while half dressed Shannis pranced around in dreams that got dirtier as the nights went by.
On Friday night, I thought my torture was over, as the next day almost all the counselors would be gone, and I would have a day or two before the campers showed up to take my mind off Shanni and her incredible body and even more incredible promises she had made with it. I packed up my week's worth of dirty clothes and headed off to the tiny laundry room built under the main lodge. I figured if I couldn't clean up my mind, I could at least clean up my clothes.
As soon as I arrived in the laundry room, all thoughts of quickly doing my laundry flew right out the window, as someone else had beat me there. Just as I walked in, the drier buzzed, and stopped, joining the quiet washer. I fumed a little, then realized that I could either be a grump and do laundry later, or I could take the dry stuff out, put the wet stuff in and start my laundry as I had planned. But I could hardly take the dry stuff out and just dump it somewhere, so I started doing the nice guy thing and folding the clothes and putting them in the basket on the floor. Shirt, shorts, sock, panties...whoa. I was folding a girl's laundry. Suddenly I was afraid whoever owned the panties would come in and se me standing there and get the wrong idea. I folded them quickly and dropped them in the basket, blushing furiously.
Now I was torn- finish folding the laundry and hope for the best, or just sneak off and come back later? I finally gave in, figuring whoever belonged to the laundry would not ask too many questions if they came in and found it all done and folded for them, but might make inquiries if only half were done. I picked out the next article of clothing and nearly dropped it- the bra that matched the panties: sexy, silky and very, very sheer. I let out a low whistle of appreciation.
"It looks even better on, you know."
I froze. I knew that voice, and knew I was in trouble, even before Shanni stepped into the room and closed the door. She stood there for a moment staring at me, allowing my gaze to travel up her legs to the hem of her oversized t-shirt. For most of the summer, the girl counselors seemed to live in oversize t-shirts, swimsuits and shorts. It was a good look on most, but devastatingly hot on Shanni. "Now, some people," she teased, "might have a problem with someone else doing their laundry, but not me. If that's the only way I can get you to touch anything of mine, I'll take it."
I tried to remain calm as I kept folding. "What do you mean, Shanni?"
She angrily grabbed a sock away from me and matched it to one from the drier. "I mean is there something wrong with me, or is it you? I've been practically throwing myself at you, and you are definitely NOT responding, so what is it? You don't like blondes? You don't like women? You think I look stupid or something?"
